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by LimpBiscuit
Summary: A series of stories revolving around Vegeta and his family.
1. Chapter 1: Sayaing

New category, new story! For those who are following my other ones...I apologize. Serious writer's block. But I'm working on it. Bare with me! And to those who are looking forward to this, enjoy~

A series of stories involving Vegeta and his family.

**Chapter 1: "Sayaing"**

As the Prince of all Saiyans - something he repeatedly reminded friends, family and stranger alike - Vegeta was very fond of his supernatural abilities. He liked being able to build muscle, he liked his unimaginable strength and speed and agility and prided himself on being a keen tactician in the heat of battle. His senses were much more sensitive in comparison to a human and he was proud of this. Hell, he bragged about it on many occasions.

However, as much as he loved being a Saiyan, Vegeta found himself being virtually betrayed by his own heightened senses. He had been minding his business for the first half of the day, jovially training in the Gravity Machine, achieving new levels of the awesomeness that was he, when his ears were assaulted with the shrill screams of his five-year old son.

He growled, finding the sound almost as bad at the shrill screech of Bulma's voice. The man made no move to go figure out what was wrong with the boy. He knew that Bulma would be tending to his every need and whim. Anyway, it was no secret that Vegeta hadn't really started off running with this whole 'fatherhood' charade. He had only recently began acknowledging the boy and even that was rare.

A full five minutes passed and Vegeta could still hear his son crying. Where was the woman? Or her parents? He was slowly acquiring a headache. How much air did the kid have in his lungs?

It took three more minutes until Vegeta grudgingly left the Gravity Room and ventured into the house to seek out Trunks. He found the purple haired boy lying on the kitchen floor, tiny hands balled into fists, screaming and crying at the ceiling. There was blood on the floor and spilled silverware.

Vegeta accessed the situation carefully before walking over. Trunks, having sensed his father near, quickly ceased his crying and looked up. Vegeta could now see the problem. The boy had cut his leg on something sharp, tearing a giant gash down his thigh.

"Daddy, I got a boo boo!" Trunks cried, holding out his arms.

A boo boo? The man scowled, realizing that he wasn't equipped to deal with this and wondering where in the hell the woman was. "Stop crying!" He snapped, only causing his son to cry louder. He sighed and picked him up, placing him on the kitchen table.

Trunks sniffed and grabbed his leg, a pained expression on his face. "It hurts..."

"Well what do you want me to do about it?"

"Do what mommy does!"

Vegeta winced, holding a hand to his ear. "And just what does your mommy-eh, what does your mother do?"

But Trunks only cried harder, seemingly ignoring the question. He flailed his arms and big, fat tears spilled out from his squinted eyes, leaving his shirt wet. Vegeta clenched his teeth. Why was his son such a crybaby? It wasn't even that big of a cut. This was the result of the woman, smothering him for every little thing, making him weak.

Even after his father patched up the scratch and put a bandage over it, Trunks wouldn't stop crying and he wouldn't stop to say what exactly was wrong.

_What the hell does he want!?_ Vegeta was desperate to find anything to stop his son from his shrieking. He zoomed throughout the house, pulling toys that he had seen Trunks play with and showing them to him in an attempt to calm him down.

The boy continued crying.

Vegeta pulled out cakes and cookies and ice cream, knowing that Bulma would have a fit, and shoved them into the boy's mouth.

Trunks wailed louder.

At a complete loss, Vegeta bellowed, "WOULD YOU JUST BE QUIET!?"

Trunks instantly quieted, staring at his dad with wide eyes.

"You're crying and crying about a tiny, insignificant scratch! Do you want to see something to really cry about!?" Vegeta rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a jagged, ugly scar on his forearm. "This is something to weep about! Not your baby _'boo boos'_!"

"That's a big boo boo." Trunks stated, reaching out to touch it with a chubby finger, no longer worried about his own pain. "Did it hurt?"

Vegeta was surprised to find that his son seemed especially interested in his scar. And that was saying a lot because the boy's little five-year old brain could barely concentrate on one thing for too long. "No. It didn't hurt."

"Wow, you must be really strong, daddy. If that didn't hurt."

"Well I am strong." He smirked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Can I be as strong as you?"

Vegeta almost scoffed. "Not if you sit and cry about every little thing." He grunted. "You're a Saiyan. Toughen up."

"What's a..._Sa-yaing_?"

"Saiyan. A Saiyan." Vegeta shook his head. "Forget about it, you'll learn about that later."

"Okay daddy." Trunks said, scrunching up his face in seriousness. "I won't cry anymore. I'll be the best Sayaing in the world. And I'll be big and strong, like you."

Vegeta smirked, realizing that he didn't really dislike the thought of Trunks looking up to him. "Good boy." He lifted him off of the table and placed him on the ground. "Now stay out of the kitchen."

Trunks nodded and started to waddle his way out. Suddenly, he stopped and turned around to look up at his father. Then he tore off the bandage on his thigh, leaving his freshly raw scar out in the open.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow in question, watching him toss the bandage in the trash. "What'd you do that for?"

Trunks, in all of his five-year old glory, grinned. "I'm gonna keep my scars. To show people how strong I am. Like you."

Then the purple haired boy walked out of the kitchen, muttering about how he couldn't wait to be the best 'Sayaing' in the world.


	2. Chapter 2: Princess

**Chapter 2 : Princess**

Vegeta wasn't sure how much longer he could stand it.

He stood in the doorway of the bedroom he shared with his wife, a vein throbbing in his forehead from evident frustration. His day had gone just fine, great even. He had woken up and went straight to train, gaining almost a pound more in muscle. To add-on to this good fortune, the man had gotten the chance to verbally abuse his son for the consistently irritable stunts he pulled before sentencing him to an afternoon of hard labor - including tending to the needs of his, lately, insufferable, pregnant wife.

Vegeta had long since swore off having anymore children. His firstborn, Trunks, could vouch for the fact that he wasn't exactly father material. Aside from the fact that his life revolved around training and defeating that idiot Kakarot, Vegeta was not a family man. The making of Trunks was an act of frustration, loneliness and lust. He hadn't felt any kind of attachment towards his son for the first few years of his life. In actuality, he hadn't been present much at all.

It took many years and a lot of deep contemplation until Vegeta finally began to accept Trunks and the new role he had taken in life. Sometimes, he still found himself wondering just how the hell he had gotten into this situation.

This was one of those times.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD SAY THAT TO ME!" Bulma cried, tears rolling down her cheeks. She was sitting on the foot of the bed, her bulbous belly stretching the fabric of her floral blouse. She held her head in her hands and weeped openly.

Vegeta sighed inwardly, knowing better than to make any sudden moments or sounds when she got like this.

"I just can't believe you think Chi Chi looks better than me!"

He gave her an incredulous look and scoffed. "What in God's name are you going on about?"

In actuality, Vegeta had not said that Chi-Chi looked better than Bulma. Because, honestly, Vegeta thought his wife was beautiful and he thought that Goku's wife was annoying and grating and better off dead. What he actually said with a shrug, in reply to Bulma's prodding about what dress she should wear that day was, "Wear the black one."

This sentence, to the irrational and emotionally charged Bulma, came to mean that Vegeta preferred the black hair of Chichi's to Bulma's blue hair and that he was more attracted to her best friend.

"You think Chi-chi looks better than me!" She wailed, sounding more like a walrus than a woman.

The short man groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Pregnancy was a foe like nothing he'd ever faced. Ever since that fateful day when Bulma had giddily announced that they were expecting, Vegeta hadn't really known how to react. Was he destined to ruin another child's life? Would this time be different? Was he even capable of being a father?

His hidden insecurities spiraled into more and more and had grown into a giant ball of distress. Piled on top of that was the fact that Bulma was not Bulma when she was pregnant.

Bulma had transformed into Queen of the fucking Bitches.

"I never said that harpy looked better than you-"

"YOU LIKE BLACK, VEGETA! BLACK! IT'S SO OBVIOUS!"

She's a fucking nutcase, he thought. This new enemy was constantly changing up its tactics, attacking at the most unexpected times. They had just been having a nice, civil conversation and now he was apparently having an emotional affair with Kakarot's woman.

This was no rare phenomenon. Vegeta had found himself in these situations more frequently. Bulma called it "mood swings" but Vegeta referred to them as 'transformations.' Much like Freiza when he morphed into his new forms and gained new techniques, Vegeta learned that each transformation of Bulma gained new levels of hysteria and agitation.

This was Jealous Bulma, who assumed that every woman who Vegeta mentioned, looked at or referred to was someone he was pining after.

Vegeta wasn't good with Jealous Bulma. But, then again, he wasn't good with any Bulma. The pregnancy had made her foreign to him. She no longer liked her favorite desserts, gagging and throwing up when he brought her them. She woke him up in the middle of the night, crying about how he was going to leave her. She ate all sorts of weird concoctions, like pickles with mayonnaise and spaghetti with ice cream. And her moods were never the same, always changing, always forcing him to be aware. One time, Vegeta had found her butt naked in the Gravity Room, screaming at him that he was a pig and then practically jumping on top of him. Vegeta was almost grateful that he hadn't been there through the first pregnancy because this was hell.

Trunks chose that time to waltz into the room, holding a stack of miscellaneous items that his mother had sent him out to get. Having just ascended to the age of ten a few months ago, the boy had begun to assert his scientific abilities and move his love of training to the back of his mind, much to Vegeta's chagrin and Bulma's delight. One of his latest inventions involved the use of a pair of extra sensitive glasses that could calculate the heart rate and blood flow of others to find any kind of heighten senses that might result in anger or nervousness.

For the most part, it told him when to get the hell out of the room if Bulma was having one of her "mood swings."

"Oh well look at the time. Gotta get over to Goten's and uh...fix that thing." The boy dropped the items on the ground and was on his way out when Vegeta grabbed him by the neck. Trunks sighed. "Oh yeah, right. I forgot that I was mom's personal servant today..."

"Maybe next time you won't spray all my clothes with infected chemicals." The widow peak male growled.

"They weren't infected. I was testing my new invention-"

"They gave me rashes." Vegeta tightened his hold on his son's neck, causing him to wince.

"Oh god, I can't believe I'm going to be a single mother!"

The two male Saiyans turned their attention to the hysterical Bulma who was still going on about the alleged affair of her best friend and her husband. Father and son shared a look.

"What'd you do to her?" Trunks asked, feeling a little bad about wanting to ditch his hurting mother.

"I didn't do a damn thing!" His father hissed, almost squeezing the life out of Trunks.

Suddenly, the crying - which had raised to a loud wailing- stopped. Bulma's eyes opened, red and puffy and she looked down.

"Vegeta." Her voice was low and even.

Vegeta glanced at her, preparing for the worst. "What is it?"

She slowly brought her head up, looking him directly in the eye. "My water just broke."

Silence.

"And?" Vegeta raised an eyebrow.

"I can get you another water if you want, mom." Trunks offered, voice shaking.

"NO YOU IDIOTS! I'M IN LABOR! GET ME TO A HOSPITAL!"

* * *

Everyone was there before they were. Which was absurd to Vegeta because he didn't remember calling or telling anyone. But there they were, like a flock of overly aggravating dogs, huddled together with wide, excited eyes.

Goku led the pack, happily clapping his hand on Vegeta's shoulder, which he loathed. "You're gonna be a daddy!"

No one decided to explain to Goku that he was already, indeed, a daddy.

* * *

The waiting was the worst part.

Much to Vegeta's utter delight, Bulma didn't ask him to come into the room. He wasn't sure if it was because she didn't think he'd do well in this situation or because she was still hung up on the whole Chichi thing - the blue haired heiress had made it a point to tell Vegeta that his lover was here so why did he want to be in a room with her?- but he was glad either way. The man stood away from Goku and his family and all of their friends. He paced in the hallways with his arms folded, sighing and growling and grunting to himself.

It was not until this very moment that he realized that he hadn't asked about the sex of the baby. He hadn't really asked much about it at all. He began to mull it over, wondering how it'd look and if this offspring could at least have some sort of genetic similarity to himself.

He thought about the baby now more than he had in the whole nine months of pregnancy. He wondered what she'd name it, wondered how strong it'd become, wondered if it would obtain the level of Super Saiyan as fast as Trunks, would it be taller than him? What if it was a girl? What would he do with a girl? Would it-

"Dad."

Vegeta stopped pacing and looked up, taking in the sight of his son standing beside a man in a white coat. Doctor. He waited.

"Congratulations, you have a healthy baby girl."

* * *

"Bra!? You named her Bra!?"

Bulma sat slumped in the hospital bed, looking disheveled and sweaty and altogether spent. "What did you want me to name her, Vegetana?" She asked dryly, gaining a sneer from her husband. "I like it. She looks like a Bra."

"She looks like you."

"Is that so bad?"

It kinda was. This was the second child who had gained more of Bulma than him. He was slightly ashamed of his genes being overpowered by a mere human woman.

"A very strong, smart and BEAUTIFUL human woman!" Bulma huffed, sitting upright. Vegeta gently pushed her back down.

"Don't over-exert yourself, woman." He stated softly, giving her a 'listen to me or I'll make you' look. She grudgingly obliged, laying back down. "Get some rest."

"I'm fine. I'm not tired. I feel great for the first time in nine months. I am no longer a slave to my crazy emotions."

"Trust me when I say that that is the best news I've heard in my entire life. But you just gave birth. Go to bed." Vegeta turned after a few beats of silent, expecting a resistant reply from Bulma, and chuckled silently when he saw that she had drifted to sleep in nothing more than a few seconds.

He turned his attention back to the bundle lying in the crib beside the hospital bed. Already, there was a thick spray of blue tresses spurting from the top of her tiny head. She was wrapped in covers and lay sleeping silently. Vegeta looked from his sleeping daughter to his sleeping wife and was astounded at the similarities.

A girl. He had a daughter. Her power level was very faint but he could sense it. He was sure that it was nowhere as powerful as Trunks' had been. Female Saiyans had not been given the gift of insurmountable strength and power as Saiyan males. His daughter was not going to be a great warrior, what with her being half human as well.

This worried him. Vegeta's bond with his son had grown due to their training. It was the only thing he was exceptionally good at. How could he bond with this daughter of his?

Bra opened her big blue eyes and, for the first time, looked at her dad. She made a gurgling sound, smiling a toothless smile.

"Don't get your hopes up, kid." He whispered, smirking down at the tiny form. "I'm not the person you should be smiling at. That person is sleeping. I'm a shitty father. Your brother will tell you all about it."

This didn't seem to bother Bra. She continued to smile and gurgle and twitch, effectively wiggling her way out of the blankets containing her. With a quick look around to make sure no one was near and that Bulma was still sound asleep, Vegeta reached down, painfully slow, and grazed the baby's cheek.

With lightning fast speed, that only a Saiyan was able to see, Bra grabbed his finger and squeezed.

Vegeta, surprised at the baby's strength, smirked. Hm...maybe she could become a warrior... "Did you know," He began quietly, "that your father is a Saiyan Prince? Do you know what that makes you?"

Bra stared up at him and he smiled.

"That makes you my little princess."


	3. Chapter 3: Being Human

**Chapter 3 : Being Human**

"Mom. Dad."

"Hn?"

"Yes Trunks?"

The purple haired boy frowned, frustrated that his parents weren't paying attention. The trio was sitting at the dinner table, a ritual that Bulma started to ensure that they were improving their 'communication' skills. Ironically, she spent more time reading through papers for work and taking phone calls than actually speaking. She was now engrossed in an article, leaving her plate of food cold. Food that the maids had cooked because, as always, she was much too busy to cook. And, well, she wasn't good at it.

Vegeta was concentrating on his food. He was calculating how much he had already inhaled, how much more he had to go and how much protein and energy this would give him to continue with his training. In consideration of the bottomless pits that Saiyans called stomachs, there was always an obsessive amount of food made to satisfy their hunger. And although Trunks was only nine, he could eat ten times his weight in food.

"I don't want to be a Saiyan anymore."

There was a clatter of plates resulting from Vegeta dropping the one he held onto the others that he had cleared. Bulma swiveled her head to stare at her son who had his eyebrows narrowed and looked mighty serious.

"What did you just say?" Vegeta growled through a mouthful of food.

"I don't want to be a Saiyan anymore." The boy drawled out slowly, hoping this would make them understand.

Bulma looked towards her husband, sensing his anger. There was one major thing that Vegeta was proud of and that was his heritage. "What...Why not, Trunks?" She asked, concerned.

"I want to be a human. A real one. I don't want to be different anymore."

Ah, Bulma thought, that's what's bothering him. She looked at Vegeta again and saw that this was not something he was comprehending.

"You want to be a human?" Vegeta repeated, incredulous. "A weakling human?"

"Hey, we're not all weak." Bulma huffed, narrowing her eyes. She then leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Talk to your son. I'm sensing a problem. Get to the bottom of it."

"Why me?" He asked, squinting at her.

"Because, I think he needs to hear this from you."

"Hear what from me!?"

But Bulma was already gone, skipping out of the room. Vegeta growled deep in his throat, _infuriating woman..._

He turned his attention back to his sulking son who had folded his arms and slumped down in his seat. "So boy," He started irritably, taking a bite out of a chicken leg. "You want to be a dumb human."

Trunks met his father's eyes and nodded, determined. "Being a Saiyan is stupid."

Vegeta nearly choked. He coughed, pounded on his chest. "I'll have you know that you come from a long line of royalty! Your ancestors were the strongest men alive!"

"Yeah? Well, where are they now?"

Fury flashed on the Prince's face and he clenched his teeth. His fist came down hard on the table, making Trunks jump in fright. "Keep getting smart and you'll be joining them."

There was silence where the only sounds heard was Vegeta stuffing his face while Trunks fiddled with his food.

"All the other kids are normal." Trunks started abruptly, muttering. "All the other kids don't have to pretend that they can't fly. All the other kids don't have to hold back their strength when they play dodgeball or spend all their time worrying about not being able to do this or that cause I'm a Saiyan and I'm stronger than everyone else and it wouldn't be fair to the other kids."

Vegeta stared at his son. He knew that sending his son to that infernal place Bulma called 'school' was a bad idea but he could see where the kid was coming from. It was bad enough that his mother was famous without adding on the fact that he was slowly reaching puberty and worrying about school work and having a bunch of raw power that went to waste while he sat in a classroom.

He should have suspected that Trunks would have these sort of problems. Vegeta had never worried about fitting in because, well, he would rather die than try to fit in with the useless creatures on this planet. But Trunks was different. Trunks didn't grow up around the same circumstances as Vegeta, which sometimes made it hard for the Prince to sympathize. When Vegeta was nine, he didn't eat dinner at home with his parents. He had been murdering whole villages.

"So you'd rather be like all the other kids? Just another faceless boy in the crowd?"

"Yeah...yeah. I want to be like everyone else." Trunks grumbled angrily. "Being a Saiyan only gets you in trouble."

"Oh?"

"Well yeah. Goten's dad is always gone because he's a Saiyan and people want to kill him cause of it." Trunks looked up at Vegeta with wide eyes. "You and Goten's dad are the last of the full-blooded Saiyans, dad."

"I know that." Vegeta snapped, scowling.

"What happened to the rest?"

His father stayed stoic for a beat. "They were murdered."

"By who?"

"By an evil, ugly tyrant named Freiza."

"Did he kill your dad?"

Vegeta winced slightly, remembering the memory of his father. It had been a while since these thoughts had been dredged back up. Longer than he'd care to admit. He had made it a point to remember the extinction of his race to remind himself that it was up to him to keep it alive as long as possible. "Yes. He killed my father."

"Did you kill him?"

You killed him, Vegeta suddenly thought, the future you. "Kakarot killed him."

There was more silence where Trunks played around with his food and Vegeta stared off into space.

"Dad."

"Hn?"

"Will you go away too?"

Vegeta glanced at his son. "What?"

"Goten's dad goes away cause he's a Saiyan. Will you go away too? Will I go away?"

"Is this what's bothering you?" His father asked, feeling a little triumphant over the fact that he had actually gotten to the root of the problem. "Is this why you want to be human?"

Trunks had his head down but Vegeta could hear the tears threatening to fall. "I don't want you to go, dad. I don't want you to die again." The boy sniffed. "If we were all human, no one would attack us anymore."

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Vegeta thought back to the day, just a year before, that he had sacrificed himself to save the world from Majin Buu. Had had hugged his son and told him how proud he was of him. Then he had died, using his energy to make a self-absorbed bomb. He hadn't thought about it until recently and he surely hadn't thought about what it might have done to his son. His son who had always openly voiced that he loved having supernatural powers. His son who was the biggest show-off, arrogant kid in the world. It had obviously affected him greatly, completely changing his attitude.

Had this transformation been going on all year? Vegeta wondered. How had Bulma and I missed this?

"Trunks."

The purple haired boy looked up, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm not going anywhere. Your mother isn't going anywhere. YOU aren't going anywhere. We're safe now."

"How do you know that?" The boy blubbered, wiping at his nose. "How do you know that we won't all die?"

Vegeta smirked. "Boy, have you forgotten? I'm the Prince of all Saiyans! No one can defeat me!"

Trunks laughed, smiling shakily. "Except Goku."

"Watch it."

Trunks snickered again. He felt better, he felt relieved. "Could you tell me some more about the Saiyans? And about your dad?"

"Really? You want to know about them?" Vegeta asked, slightly taken aback. "No longer wishing to be a human?"

"Nah." the boy shook his head swiftly, spraying his purple strands every which way. "Humans are weak and feeble. I'm proud to be a Saiyan." He did the trademarked Vegeta-like smirk, folding his arms across his chest. "Besides, I'm from royalty!"

Vegeta smirked and Bulma came skirting back in to check on the two. "So? Everything alright?" He nodded his head to confirm and she grinned. "Feeling better, Trunks?"

"Better? I feel great!" The boy raised his head and lifted his arms to the sky. "I'm the Prince of all Saiyans!"

"Oh great." Bulma muttered, shaking her head and walking out of the kitchen. "Now there's two of them."


End file.
